


what game will she play?

by cloakofshadows



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Light Angst, Pining, Unrequited Crush, but like if you vibe w/ this just mentally swap it out with your detective's last name, i just cant get unrequited nat/ava out of my mind ok, idk man i just work here, this mentions my detective's last name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloakofshadows/pseuds/cloakofshadows
Summary: Things they don't tell you at the Agency: how to not pine for your best friend. Nat supposes they don't teach that before you're turned into a vampire either.
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	what game will she play?

The world changed from the moment Agent Monroe told Unit Bravo to protect a human—no, her daughter—from the impending danger of Murphy. Protection wasn’t their strong suit, but Agent Natalie Sewell couldn’t help but feel a sense of content for getting to settle in a town for the time being. Maybe she could come to even settle some roots here. It was unlikely, but she couldn’t help but entertain the thought of making more of her prolonged life. There were new people to meet in the small town of Wayhaven.

Much to the dismay of her team, Nat never had a problem with interacting with people. It’s a comforting thing, seeing them so motivated by the brevity of their lives. While the sensation was long gone for Nat, she felt moved by the notion; there was an imperative to act, to enjoy the short life you’ve been given.

Yes, it was a macabre thought, but she found it difficult to avoid the topic. Keeping perspective on just why people fought so hard was increasingly becoming a task, with as long as Nat had been alive. She was certainly able to sympathize with the Detective’s choice to shoot the eerie figure that fateful night in the abandoned warehouse. Similarly, she could understand the victim’s, Agent Ava du Mortain, contempt for their brash, reckless behavior.

It was a difficult stance to have as Unit Bravo’s second in command. It would be something she would need to consider during their mission to look after the Detective.

From the moment that night at the warehouse, Nat’s mind always lingered to the fear for Ava; it was unmistakably human. A gunshot wound was insignificant in the sum of things, but that small moment of fear for her commander, her best friend, filled her chest. It wasn’t about someone shooting a vampire, but the fear of someone shooting Ava. It was a key distinction.

It wasn’t as though Ava wouldn’t pull through—she always did—but the full body shock was enough to jolt Nat’s long-numbed nerves. The thoughts that swirled her head in the moment were uncharacteristic, but justifiable: take out the threat. It was bestial, primal at the core. Of course, the thoughts dissipated as soon as they came, but it was strange for Nat. It was her responsibility to be the advocate for people, for humans. In the moment, though, it was a tidal wave crashing around her chest. How dare someone shoot the Commanding Agent?

When the team made their escape into the darkness of night, Nat was right by Ava’s side, assessing the wound from the Detective’s pistol. Unsurprisingly, the wound was beginning to close, but she wouldn’t help but worry too much about Ava’s safety. It was ridiculous; their kind weren’t prone to shock, infections, or other related illnesses. Yet, Nat hovered over her friend’s injury, taking care to check in with her and monitor the healing process.

Having been so close to Ava for as long as they have, she could already see the resentment building in her partner’s frame. Tense shoulders, clenched jaw, her choice of words were subtle, but not impossible to distinguish from Ava’s typical stern demeanor. Nat did what she could to stem Ava’s anger, to show her that the Detective was acting out of fear. Per usual, this was met with a grumble and dismissal, but was eventually chalked up to the ordeal of dealing with humans.

When Agent Rebecca informed them that the person who shot Ava that night was to be protected at all costs, the team reacted in such different ways, each one coursing through Nat’s mind. Most of all, she was concerned, but who was it she was concerned for?

* * *

The one thing she could count on was keeping her head down and trying her hardest to look after everyone. It was nothing new: looking after the others was a self-imposed choice and a workplace responsibility. She would certainly try to look after her team as she did the Detective. While it wasn’t exactly the same as catching Murphy and moving onto the next task, she enjoyed getting to stay in the quaint town of Wayhaven. Maybe she’d even get the chance to enjoy the small things people did. It wasn’t a promised perk, but the possibility was enough to entertain Nat.

Perhaps she could finally enjoy taking time for herself; a chance to look for more out of unlife was exciting. Even if it was with the regular people of Wayhaven, it was a good enough distraction for the time being. Romance was never a priority for Unit Bravo, but Nat couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing for it. Others were happy to engage with people for small bouts of carnal pleasure, but Nat was old-fashioned in that way: there was no substitute for love.

Few in Unit Bravo understood that like Farah did. The two of them agreed on the lure of romance, the gestures of finding the one. There was a hopeful veneer with Farah, though. Being what they were, a lifetime of passion often wasn’t a reality for them. The two of them understood that well enough, and they knew the slim pickings of alternatives: making peace with outliving your beloved, making them into a monster, or finding someone who suffered the same affliction as they did. Each had their perks and drawbacks. It was difficult to reconcile the facts of their pursuit with the feeling of longing.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, Nat thought—finding others with the same affliction wasn’t hard. The Agency was full of others like her; certainly there was someone who felt the same. Maybe they were even closer than she would care to admit.

Feelings are a messy, soft thing, a delicate seedling, Nat knew this to be true. It needed to bloom over time and flower into something beautiful. The intoxicating scent of passion would linger and fill her mind with thoughts of affection. Perhaps she needed to finally do something with this feeling after years, maybe even decades, of longing.

There was no question that the last however long the two spent together, Nat had a certain fondness for the one constant in her unlife. Ava had been the one who showed up again and again. It was romantic in its own right—falling for someone over the course of years and years was enticing.

Spending all that time together didn’t make it easier to pick up any of Ava’s romantic inclinations, her giveaways. Despite her anger and frustration, which were certainly easier to identify, kind feelings were harder to unearth from her stony exterior. Had Ava ever been in love before? Her hand waving and dodging of the subject was the subject of endless talks among Farah and Morgan.

Surely, this time in the picturesque town of Wayhaven would allow a reprieve and time to enjoy a new routine with Unit Bravo, with Ava. Nothing would come of it; nothing would change, but good god, she wanted to try.

* * *

Nat didn’t think of herself as a bashful person, but there were times where she was deeply grateful for a distinct lack of physiological signs of attraction—no flushed skin or goosebumps to give her away. Only a stammer here and there that she could brush off would undermine her words when asked about the topic. Somehow, Farah was thrilled to push even Nat’s buttons on the subject. It was certainly a side effect of their shared romantic tendencies.

Moments alone with Ava, while far and few between, were to be savored. Even in complete silence, her company was a comfort to Nat. Things didn’t have to feel forced. The fluttering in her chest only managed to heighten the moment. Certainly, it was completely mental, but it felt good. She was young again, like she was before becoming a monster.

Yet, their mission to protect the Detective from the ever-elusive Murphy made things difficult to enjoy their time in their temporary home. After having spent a few weeks together, with the Detective in ignorant bliss, Nat knew keeping her in the dark posed the greatest risk to her life. It was her job to protect her by any means necessary, even if it meant she had to peek behind the curtain.

However, the thought was firmly stamped out by the stern leader. As if she didn’t already feel boundless compassion for the Detective, Ava’s firm tone—reminding Nat of her position in Unit Bravo—was the proverbial nail in the coffin. Her opinion meant little in the way of Unit Bravo’s leadership; she should’ve known better than to try and appeal to Ava’s emotional nature. It didn’t soothe the sting of her partner raising her voice at Nat now.

It wasn’t the end of their relationship; Ava had yelled before and the team got along just fine. That’s the nature of their small brigade and it was the expectation to move on and continue working together.

Though, Nat couldn’t help but worry why Ava was so against telling the Detective. Surely, if her mother was the leader of Unit Bravo, her daughter was likely cut from the same cloth and could handle it. She’d proved herself to be resilient and unafraid of the unknown, springing to action when the threat presented itself.

Was it the Detective she was protecting? Perhaps it was herself? The thought solidified in the pit of her stomach either way.

* * *

The following days—or weeks, Nat wasn’t sure anymore—Ava was at the center of her uncomfortably analytical eye. Small talks here and there with Morgan proved to add more credence to her theory: Ava was protecting the Detective in her own way from the knowledge of what they are. That was something only lived, messy experience with Ava would uncover. Of course, why hadn’t she seen it before?

The revelation from this detached state was partly fascinating, partly unsettling. What was it that Ava was so afraid of that she couldn’t see outside of her own head? Surely one person who could either handle it or be programmed to forget wouldn’t be the end of the world for Unit Bravo or the Agency.

She continued to look on. Selfishly; compassionately? A mix of the two?

A smirk here. An exasperated sigh there—something Nat had never seen in her leader. Whatever it was she was feeling, it sat in the bottom of her stomach, and if she said too much, it threatened to expel itself over anyone unfortunate enough to stand nearby.

Putting aside the way she felt was harder than ever. No matter, though, it wouldn’t be long before they left the town and the Detective faded into the faceless crowd of people the team would interact with. It was an uncharacteristic relief to Nat—it was unlike her to be happy that a dear friend would grow apart from someone they’d surely felt something for. Yet, the thought comforted her.

Dare Nat overlook the reciprocal feeling from the Detective? She would certainly be choosing ignorance over the evidence staring her in the face. When Ava came too close to the woman, Nat could hear the racing of the Detective’s heart, see the tension fill her body. Goodness, she could nearly smell the flooding of hormones filling her mind. Despite her unaffected facade, the human physiology wasn’t so kind to the Detective’s denial of her own feelings.

It wasn’t the Detective’s fault; if Nat’s condition didn’t prevent her from giving the signs of attraction, she would certainly be showing the same signs when around Ava.

She wondered if Ava knew. While the leader was no Casanova, she had to be cognizant of the warmth radiating through the Detective icy exterior. Maybe they were both finally beginning to defrost.

No matter, Nat felt guilt filling every part of her heart as she wished for the quick capture of Murphy.

* * *

In a flash—quite literally; the favored method of DMB by the Agency—her dream of smooth sailing had crumbled. Murphy had staged an assault on the Detective’s apartment and managed to coax her and Ava out for a full attack, resulting in him taking her right from the Commanding Agent’s hands.

Rebecca was the first to realize what happened: her daughter was taken by a vampiric, mad scientist for the ultimate science experiment. The thought of the Detective’s fate worried Nat. A human who she’d grown fond of and regarded as a friend was taken. Not to mention, Ava was bloodied and bruised, a sight she hated to see. The circumstances aside, Ava had lost the Detective. She couldn’t imagine the panic their leader felt as the person she was sworn to protect slipped right through her fingers.

The Ava that Nat knew lost her stoic exterior. This Ava was frantic, seeming to slip into a bestial side of herself. She paced. She cursed. This wasn’t the Ava she knew. It was a frightening sight, but she couldn’t help but feel her heart break for her. Watching her closest friend and longtime comrade destroy herself was a pain she never wanted to live through again. Ava’s stern face stained with crimson tears was an even rarer view and another experience she never wanted to live through again. Tears threatened to spill down her face at Ava’s pain.

The team wasn’t unused to loss; they’d failed to catch Murphy back in Alaska, and every time before that. But Nat knew better. This was different than any time before. Ava had lost something that mattered to her. She opened herself up—perhaps willingly—and lost her.

She couldn’t deny the crushing feeling she and the rest of the team felt. Each person having their own fear of losing the Detective; it was a somber moment in the team’s collective history.

* * *

When the Agency was able to locate the Detective, Nat was relieved, frightened; the feeling was hard to place. The swirl of emotions mixed in her chest, resulting in a concoction that would have made her sick if she wasn’t what she was. Nonetheless, the Detective was finally found.

It was a spark of hope for her mother, the team, Ava. Nat was happy for them. And maybe she could learn to live with the deep held feelings between her best friend and the Detective.

**Author's Note:**

> major thanks to my wonderful gf for again not laughing at this fic, and for even indulging this concept of nat pining for ava 🥺  
> -  
> this concept came to me in a bout of mentow iwwness and i couldn't stop thinking about how much it would hurt have feelings for someone for that long. especially when they're as stoic as ava 😭 i took a few liberties but i tried to keep as close as i could to canon because that's fun  
> -  
> also if you see any references/allusions to vampire the masquerade, no you don't ❤


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